Since Yvaine had entered the Valehart estate, Old Lady Valehart had required her, without fail, to present herself each morning and evening in dutiful attendance.
On this particular day, dawn had barely broken when she rose to wash and dress. Though the Emberlyn family had not been a house of great renown, Yvaine herself had been cherished and delicately raised.
Now, reduced to the status of a mistress beneath another's roof, her heart was already heavy with grievance—yet she was forced to tread carefully at every step, ever mindful of others' moods and expressions.
By the time she arrived at the main hall, Caelith was already seated calmly to one side, while Lady Valehart presided at the front.
"Your daughter-in-law greets you, Mother," Yvaine said, bowing low.
Lady Alaina Valehart lifted her teacup, her gaze cool with disdain. "You may rise."
